


love, and college things

by carefulren



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Modern College AU But With Bending, Modern Era, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Out of Order Fic, Slow Burn, or something like that, struggling with feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: A series of snapshots navigating Sokka and Zuko's growing relationship in college.Third Chapter:Sokka snaps his jaw shut, his cheeks growing a deep red from embarrassment and from that other damn feeling he cannot shake no matter how hard he tries. He watches Zuko laugh before him, a warm sound that echoes around them, and he wants to chase the sound, breathe it in, etch it into his memory.He realizes, just as the first snowflakes fall around them, that he feels so, blessedly warm, and his heart is starting to pick up in speed. He could be wrong, but the pure, fond look in Zuko’s eyes, the similar, pink blush to his pale cheeks…
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 140





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been kind of playing with this ATLA Benders College AU, so I’m just going to roll with it. 
> 
> Snippet 1: Warmth Beyond a Bonfire
> 
> Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko

“You what?” Katara spits out sharply, hand tightening around her fork that’s raised mid-bite.

Beside her, Aang’s jaw drop, almost comically, his mouth full of food now on proper display, and Sokka grimaces.

“I said,” Sokka starts, drawing out his words slowly as if to dumb down the language, “I invited—”

“—Zuko,” Katara finishes harshly, the name alone leaving a sour taste atop her tongue. “You invited Zuko. The same Zuko who terrorized Aang for an entire year.”

“Now, Katara,” Sokka starts, smiling sheepishly and pointedly ignoring Aang’s eyes burning a hole in his face, “terrorize is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think? He had his reasons—”

“—Family troubles don’t justify his behavior, Sokka! I still don’t understand why you even speak to him.”

“He’s my roommate, Katara,” Sokka sighs, abandoning his fork on his tray. He’ll admit, he was far from pleased when junior dorm assignments dropped online a few months ago, and Zuko’s name was typed up plain as the day itself beside his. He remembers a burning anger swelling in his stomach, and in the days leading up to move-in, he filed multiple complaints to the resident director, both written and verbally, with Katara and Aang always backing him up one hundred percent.

Though, each complaint was always answered with a sigh and a rehearsed explanation. “The dean wants to spread out the fire nation students. He thinks it will help with their location-born reputation.”

Sokka thought it was stupid, and his annoyance, and muted fear, carried over into move-in day, diminishing only when he kicked his dorm door open, multiple bags in hand, and was met with warm, golden eyes, and a soft, hesitant smile that flipped his heart sideways.

Since then, he and Zuko have discovered a balance around each other, and, much to Katara’s dismay, an unlikely bond, one that’s civilized, and one that carries a seemingly one-sided something else that Sokka refuses to bring up to anyone, himself included.

“Your point?” Katara snaps quickly. “Look, Sokka, I know Zuko came back from summer break with a new hairstyle, but that doesn’t change the fact that he—”

“—I think he should come.”

The table goes quiet, with only Aang’s nonchalant chewing filling the silence. He ignores the mirror-like looks Katara and Sokka are shooting him and offers a one shoulder shrug in response.

“Maybe Sokka’s right,” Aang starts around his food. “We don’t know what happened to Zuko, but he does seem different now that he’s spent the summer with his Uncle. He even apologized to me.”

“He did?”

“Well, he slipped me a note in AB History that said ‘sorry.’”

“That’s it?” Katara throws her hands up, a huff slipping past her lips. “Aang, you can’t be serious about this. He hit you and mocked you for an entire year, and I thought he was going to kill you during the Bender Tournament. Do you really think it’s a good idea to be within bending distance at a bonfire, where he will very easily have the upper hand?”

Shrugging, Aang carries his gaze across the cafeteria to a two-seater booth in the back corner where Zuko’s currently sitting, nose buried in some novel with a fire bender and a water bender on the front. Katara and Sokka follow Aang’s gaze, and Sokka unconsciously sighs, dropping his chin in his palm as his eyes drink in Zuko’s hunched over posture and his soft, intrigued eyes.

“I just think he’s different,” Aang says, adding, “for real this time. Maybe he’ll make some better friends if he comes tonight. I think it will be good for him.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sokka pries his gaze back toward Aang, pushing forth a wide, toothy smile as he leans across the table to clap Aang on the shoulder. “We’ll meet you there!” He makes to stand, to return his tray and sneak in some quick studying before his next class, but Katara reaches out, digging sharp fingers into his wrist, and he pauses, frowning.

“Katara?”

“If he so much as looks at Aang the wrong way tonight, I’ll wash him all the way back to the fire nation.”

“Noted,” Sokka says, swallowing thickly, and he tugs his wrist free and makes a beeline to the exit, completing forgetting the tray still in his hand.

***

“I just want to make sure I’m understanding everything clearly,” Zuko starts, one brow arching as he watches Sokka fling clothes out his dresser. “Your sister and Aang were… excited when you told them I was coming?”

They’ve gone through this four times now, and still, Zuko can’t seem to convince himself that Sokka’s story is valid, not even in the slightest. He crosses his arms and nudges a shirt off the edge of Sokka’s bed with his socked foot before drawing his knees to his chest, back resting against Sokka’s headboard.

“Okay, fine,” Sokka drags out, tone low and dramatic, one Zuko’s learned to know all too well. “Katara wasn’t happy about it.”

“And Aang?”

“Aang actually was the one who suggested it would be good that you come.”

Zuko can’t control the wince that pulls across his face, and for a brief moment, he’s lost in hot, burning memories shrouded in anger, frustration, and pain. He sucks in a slow, deliberate breath, one that swells coolly in his chest, and he exhales, breathing out the memory, leaving only the present right before his eyes.

“Why?” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat.

“It’s Aang,” Sokka says, tilting his head, studying Zuko’s posture and the way Zuko always makes himself look smaller than he is. “The kid’s got a heart of pure, unbreakable gold. The point is,” Sokka adds when Zuko remains passive on his bed, “you’re coming tonight. It’s going to be super fun, and I need you to stop pouting and help me pick out an outfit.”

“I wasn’t pouting,” Zuko grumbles as he slips off Sokka’s bed and starts nudging through a pile of clothes on the floor, fingers tightening around a long-sleeve navy sweater with an oversized collar that Sokka doesn’t wear nearly enough, in his opinion. He holds it up silently, and Sokka studies it, tilting his head from the left, to the right, index finger tapping at his chin.

“This could work,” he finally draws out. “Pair this with my black skinny jeans, and some converses, and I think I’ll look quite dashing.”

Zuko chokes back a laugh, trying, and failing miserably, to pass it off as a cough, and his cheeks burn a bright pink when Sokka claps a hand to his shoulder and offers a tight squeeze.

“Now, for you,” Sokka starts, slipping out of his room and down the small hall to Zuko’s room, “do you still have that red, long-sleeve Henley?”

***

Zuko grits his teeth through a small shudder as the chilly October breeze seems to slip right through his thin shirt. He should have grabbed his coat; he tried, but Sokka insisted that his outfit was perfect and that the coat would hide him too much. Still, he should have grabbed it anyway.

Regret feels cold now, and he digs his fingers into his arms and follows Sokka over to the large fire, politely declining a beer as he snags a lawn chair that’s pulled up pretty close to the roaring flames. He watches, amused, as Sokka strides from person to person naturally, but then he can feel a different kind of itching heat, and he pulls his gaze around until he locks eyes with Katara, who’s standing on the other side of the fire, glaring daggers at him. He holds her gaze, guilt coloring his eyes, and she suddenly jerks her gaze away with a low huff.

“Hey, Zuko!”

Jumping, Zuko whips a wild gaze to see Aang taking the seat beside him, an almost blinding smile painted across his lips.

“Aang…” He clears his throat. “Hey.”

“Glad you came!” Aang drops his hand on Zuko’s arm, his smile faltering, and Zuko wants to jerk his arm away, to shrink away from the sudden, blaring look of concern etching over Aang’s face.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Of course,” Zuko snaps, face falling almost immediately after the harsh words fly off his lips. “Sorry, yes. I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

Frowning, Zuko spares a glance down to see that he is, in fact, trembling softly. Beside him, Aang hops to his feet.

“I think someone has some blankets in the bed of their truck. I can get you one—”

“It’s fine,” Zuko spits out a little too quickly, halting Aang mid-step. “I mean, I’m fine. There’s no need.”

“You sure?” Aang’s hesitant, worry twisting ever-so faintly in his gut.

“I’m sure,” Zuko meets Aang’s gaze, and they stay like that, silent, for just a moment, before he’s the first to break away when he hears someone drop into a chair on the other side of him. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” Aang says quietly, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’ll just be… around. I really am glad you came tonight.”

Zuko nods, and his tense, squared shoulders slowly ease-up and unclench as Aang smiles and darts off toward a group of freshmen who seem to be far too confused and underdressed for an upper level bonfire.

He nudges his chair a little closer to the fire, an almost dangerous distance if he weren’t a fire bender, and he turns and falls into idle chatter with the person to his left, a freshman, he quickly learns, inquiring about FB 101.

***

“Sokka,” Aang elbows through a group of students surrounding Sokka, who’s mid-story about some absurd trip he and Katara took when they were in junior high. “Sokka!” he tries again, louder, muttering apologies as he slips toward the center, stumbling into Sokka’s side.

“Aang!” Sokka shouts, draping a heavy arm over Aang’s shoulder. “You guys, Aang is the most talented little dude. He’s literally the Avatar! I can’t believe I’m best friends with the Avatar!”

Aang smiles sheepishly at the shouts and catcalls that follow, and he slips away from Sokka’s heavy arm, latching onto it, instead, with strong fingers. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Well,” Sokka draws out, voice sloppy, drunken, “of course you can! Ladies and gentlemen, we shall continue this later!” He stumbles as Aang all but drags him away from the crowd, swaying and staggering all the way to a tree a little way away from the bonfire.

“Yo, Aang, what’s up?”

“I think you should take Zuko back to the dorms.”

“Why?” Sokka whines, blinking slowly. “He was just here.” He looks around, head heavy on his neck. “He’s having the time of his life. ‘S totally good for him here. He’s making tons of friends.”

“It’s not that,” Aang presses, gnawing at his bottom lip. He physically turns Sokka until they are both facing the bonfire, and Aang points toward Zuko, who’s standing frightening close to the fire, bouncing on the balls of his feet and rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

“Zuko’s fire nation, Sokka. I know it’s not that cold for us, but he’s freezing. He was already shivering when you guys got here, and it’s been three hours already.”

All at once, Sokka sobers up, forcing the alcohol that dulls his senses down to the very bottom of his stomach, and he frowns, brows furrowing, as he stares hard at Zuko. “I didn’t realize—”

“Not you fault,” Aang mutters distracted by the warm, tight, constricting hand of concern tugging at his chest. “Just… he really needs to be taken back. I took FB Analysis II. Their bodies don’t process lower temperatures because of their hotter climate. It can be dangerous…”

Sokka doesn’t stand around to hear more, already making his way toward Zuko, footsteps fast, fearfully deliberate, and in seconds, he’s at Zuko’s side, a guilty smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he gets a good look at Zuko’s pale face, paler than normal standards, and the tight clench of his jaw as if he’s physically trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Hey, Zuko. I’m beat. You ready to head back?” He goes for a casual route, knowing that Zuko will argue if he mentions they are leaving for Zuko’s sake and not of his own accord.

“It’s still a l-little early,” Zuko says, and Sokka doesn’t miss the small stutter.

“Yeah, too much alcohol makes me go all weird in the head. Not something I’m ready to unbag today.” He nudges Zuko’s arm, and Zuko holds his gaze, the two sharing a silent conversation despite the noise around them, and, after an endless minute, Zuko breaks the gaze with a nod.

“If you’re ready.”

Smiling, Sokka briefly slips away to say his goodbyes, and just minutes later, he and Zuko are starting on the five minute walk back to the dorms, the loud sounds of the party becoming nothing more than faint chatter and music in the distance the farther they walk.

Sokka stays close to Zuko’s side, eyes entranced as Zuko passes a small ball of fire from one palm to the other, the glow illuminating the cloudy puffs of breath in the cold air.

“That doesn’t burn your hands?” He finally asks, mentally wishing he opted for an interdisciplinary track so he could have taken more fire bending courses.

“It could,” Zuko says quietly. “But we’re trained to listen to how our skin reacts to the heat.” He drops the small ball of flames into his right palm and holds it there. “I can instantly feel the heat coat my palm, but it’s not unpleasant. I can hold it like this,” he pauses, raising his hand up a little higher, “until an almost icy prickle begins to stab at my skin. That’s when I know it’s been enough.” He brings his hand into a fist, extinguishing the flame, before he crosses his arms once more, absently rubbing his hands up and down to utilize the lingering heat from the fire.

Sokka drapes an arm around Zuko’s shoulders, playing it off as an easy gesture when really, he wants to offer Zuko as much warmth as he can the remainder of their walk. Worryingly, Zuko doesn’t scoff and pull away. Rather, he leans into Sokka’s side with a small shudder, and Sokka only tightens his arm.

“I’m glad you came tonight. Though, I’m sorry I vetoed the coat.”

Zuko huffs out a laugh that molds into a hiss as a chilly breeze slips across the two. “Nothing a hot shower won’t fix.”

“I give you full permission to take all of the hot water tonight.”

“Good,” Zuko says, a small smile creeping at his lips. “Because I wasn’t going to ask.”

***

Though the shower helped bite the edge of the cold off, Zuko still feels chilled through, even after standing under borderline scolding hot water for the better half of thirty minutes. He’s quick to change into something warm, a long-sleeve, thermal night shirt and a pair of sweat pants, and he snags Sokka’s hoodie off the back of his desk chair when he spots it, slipping it over his head as he walks into the living room.

He spots two mugs of steaming tea on the coffee table, and he eases himself onto the couch, craning his neck to see Sokka popping a back of popcorn in the microwave.

“Movie night?” He calls out, and Sokka whips around, a wide smile pulling at his lips.

“Figured since it’s still early, we could watch something. Your pick.” Sokka stops in front of the couch, head tilting, as he takes in Zuko’s still too pale skin. “How was your shower?”

“Fine,” Zuko says, swallowing back the urge to flinch when Sokka brings a hand up to his face. He closes his eyes, his mind pulling toward a war with the heart that’s thumping rapidly in his chest, but then Sokka just rests a warm palm to his cheek, and he almost reaches up to hold it there.

But, far too quickly, Sokka jerks his hand away, and it isn’t until the rather colorful string of cuss words that follow that Zuko opens his eyes, frowning.

“What—”

“You literally feel like a block of ice.” Sokka storms across their dorm suite, snagging blankets from both bedrooms, stopping at the thermostat on the wall twice.

“Sokka—”

“This is literally all my fault. I thought you looked way hotter without the coat, and now you feel like a fucking corpse.”

Hotter… Zuko’s eyes grow wide, but Sokka doesn’t seem to realize the true extent of any word currently slipping from his rapid tongue. He only blinks when Sokka drops both blankets on top of him, and he struggles to free himself from the tangled mess.

“Sokka, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re damn right you will,” Sokka snaps, slipping onto the couch and tugging Zuko until Zuko’s back is flush against his chest. “Because I will make sure of it.” He fumbles with the blankets, struggling to pull both over and around the two, and all the while, Zuko can’t seem to remember how words work, that he’s supposed to use some combination of his tongue, mouth, and vocal chords to produce sounds that form words.

After a few minutes of breathless rustling, Sokka’s content, rubbing his hands up and down Zuko’s arms from behind him, and Zuko’s stiff as a board, too afraid to move.

“Sokka, this isn’t necessary.”

“Are you starting to feel warmer?”

Zuko open’s his mouth to argue further, but at the question, he closes it. He still feels cold, colder than he’s felt in a while, but underneath the ice, he can feel a faint brush of warmth that’s threatening to crack the ice. Without really meaning to, he relaxes against Sokka’s chest, and he nods.

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

“Then,” Sokka mutters, “it’s necessary.”


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been kind of playing with this ATLA Benders College AU, so I’m just going to roll with it.
> 
> Snippet 2: And They Were Roommates
> 
> Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko

The bursting heat inside Zuko is diminishing as the sun begins its slow descent below the horizon, casting the sky in a swirl of orange and pink. The heat, once all encompassing, is slowly being replaced with cold fatigue, and he knows he should stop before it gets too dark, but his muscles, though tired, are prickling with a burning need, so he keeps bending, sending bursts of flames from his hands and his feet across the water.

“Zuko.”

He pretends he doesn’t hear, pushing his muscles harder, sending hotter waves of fire forward. He can feel his bones twinge, trembling under hot exertion, but he keeps going because his mind is a mess of fear, regret, and shame, and bending is the only thing he can do to quiet his inner voice, if only temporary.

“Zuko, I saw the letter with the dorm assignment.”

His lungs swell hot, and all at once, they expel icy air as he sends one, final ball of flame out toward the water, watching the reflection of harsh oranges and reds ripple atop the water. He drops to the ground with a huff, hands and feet tingling as if asleep, and he extends his bare feet forward, just close enough where the tide can brush cool water against his toes.

Iroh slowly lowers himself to the ground beside Zuko, groaning of the aches and pops of his old bones the whole way down. “The water bender’s brother.”

Zuko draws his knees up to his chest, sighing softly, and he drops his head atop one knee, his hair dropping forward to cover his face. “And Aang’s best friend.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember Sokka taking quite a swing at you after the Bender Tournament. Though, his technique was rather poor, if you ask me.”

“Uncle,” Zuko groans, squeezing his eyes shut as the memory of Sokka’s screaming and cursing whips almost painfully across his mind.

He remembers Sokka’s shaking, raised fist flying toward his jaw, and he recalls how easily he dodged it, moving on autopilot. That’s when things get a little jumbled. He can vaguely make out Aang, bruised and bloody, pulling Sokka away from him, and then he remembers his father, a looming, dark cloud of smoke billowing before him, and then, everything grows a little fuzzy around the edges, as if his mind is trying to rewrite the past from the outside in.

“Well,” Iroh starts, leaning back to take in the ocean view, “it could be worse. They could have put you with Aang.”

“Uncle!” Zuko whips a sharp gaze up to see Iroh laughing beside him, a warm sound that gets lost along the ocean breeze.

“I can’t see how this is even remotely funny.” Zuko spits out, pulling his gaze back toward the dipping sun. “I’m going to drop out.”

“Now, Zuko, there’s no need for the dramatics. I’m sure it will all work out just fine.”

Zuko drops his head back down to his knee with a groan. “You always say that, but I don’t see how that’s possible, not with what I’ve done…” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, swallowing thickly, wincing as shame tastes vile on his tongue.

“Well, dropping out is certainly not an option.”

He lifts his head. “Transfer?”

“Kindness, Zuko.”

Zuko rolls his eyes as Iroh gets to his feet and pulls Zuko up with him.

“Being nice isn’t going to fix what I’ve done to them, Uncle.” Zuko falls into step with Iroh as they start back toward the small beachside shack Iroh’s taken up as his new home.

“You think that for every problem, there’s an immediate solution, but that’s not the case. It’s not a scratch you can slap a band-aid on and call it day, Zuko. Think of it like a tea bag instead.”

Zuko slips into a chair at the small kitchen table, annoyed confusion painted across his face as Iroh pours hot water from the kettle into a teacup and places it before him.

“Think of this hot water as Sokka, who’s steaming, angry, and quick to hurt you if you get too close.”

“Okay,” Zuko draws out slowly, both brows arched as Iroh drops a tea bag into the cup.

“Now, this teabag needs to steep until all the flavors fully come out, and that takes time. In that time, the water begins to cool down until it will no longer burn if you drink it.”

“Am I the teabag in this metaphor?” Zuko teases lightly, and Iroh gives him a light smack on the back of his head.

“You can’t put a teabag in a piping hot cup of water and expect it to immediately taste good, right? It takes patience, just as it will take patience with Sokka. You shouldn’t walk into this dorm assignment expecting to apologize and put the past behind you. You’ll need to earn Sokka’s trust, and you can start by showing him kindness. You can’t erase your past, Zuko, but, for the first time in a long time, you’re the one holding the pen to your future.”

Zuko reaches out to grab the teacup in front of him, drawing his hand back with a sharp hiss when Iroh smacks it with a dish towel.

“Patience, Zuko! It’s still too hot!”

A warm smile pulls at Zuko’s lips, and he absently rubs at his hand while looking over his shoulder to Iroh. “Thanks, Uncle.”

***

Zuko’s nerves are shot, ripped to pieces, as he paces the length of the dorm’s living room, his bags neatly piled beside the couch because he wasn’t sure which of the two rooms Sokka would prefer, and he didn’t want to assume in case he assumed incorrectly. He rubs up and down his arms, feeling oddly chilled, and he moves back and forth, back and forth, the repetition being the only thing that’s keeping him grounded in the present.

He pauses beside a window, glancing out just beyond the quad. He considers leaving to find a wide, open area free of students where he can bend, wishing to chase this mounting fear with fire, but the thought, though already short, comes to an abrupt halt when he hears an all-too familiar voice growing closer and closer until it’s just outside the door.

“Be kind,” he mutters to himself. “You are a teabag, and you are kind.” He smooths his hands down his shirt, swallows thickly around the tight lump that’s made itself at home in his throat the moment Iroh pulled up to the campus hours ago, and cards his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Kind,” he reminds himself as he spins around just as the door opens, a small, hesitant smile pulling at his lips.

Sokka’s expression is unreadable. Zuko tries to dissect how the almost perfectly rounded ‘oh’ form of Sokka’s mouth fits in with the sharp furrow of his brows, the two contradicting each other and leaving him rather confused.

“Hi,” he tries, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. “Um, hey,” he takes a few, hesitant steps forward, “can I help you with your bags?”

Sokka remains almost frozen in place, and Zuko spares a glance down toward Sokka’s feet, briefly considering some water bender pulling a prank and icing Sokka’s feet to the floor, but the floor is dry at Sokka’s feet. “Um, Sokka,” he presses, reaching one hand out but stopping short, “are you okay?”

Sokka finally closes his mouth, and Zuko can’t help the muted sigh of relief that puffs from his lungs.

“What room is yours?”

“I haven’t picked,” Zuko starts quickly, motioning toward his own bags. “I wanted to wait and see which you preferred.”

“I want the one closest to the door,” Sokka mutters, and Zuko nods, understanding, though, he can’t help the small bite of hurt that flicks at his chest. Still, he gets it, and he wordlessly steps aside as Sokka struggles with his bags to the first room down the small hall, flinching when Sokka slams the door closed with his foot.

He waits for a few minutes, listening, unsure what to do, until he hears music blaring from inside the room. He takes that as his cue and begins moving his bags into the second room at the end of hall. The hot, prickling itch to bend through his frustration spikes up his fingers, but she shakes the pushing heat out of his hands and starts unpacking.

***

**New Message From Uncle:** _Well, how did it go?_

Zuko starts typing, stops, deletes everything, begins again, stops again, a pattern he’s struggling to free himself from. He first considers lying, but he knows Iroh will be able to read right through it, even through text. He considers the truth, but he’s not even sure what the truth is.

It’s been two hours since Sokka showed up, and he’s only heard Sokka leave his room once, for about thirty minutes, before returning. He starts typing again and almost drops his phone when Iroh’s call startles him.

“Hi, Uncle,” he says into the speaker, dropping his head back against his headboard.

_“I was getting tired of watching you type and stop and type and stop.”_

“Sorry,” Zuko mutters, throat suddenly dry. “How are you? Did you stop for the night already?”

_“I didn’t call you to talk about me, Zuko. How’s it going with Sokka?”_

“Honestly,” Zuko draws out, “I don’t really—” A knock on his door has his mouth snapping shut tightly.

_“What was that?”_

“Um, hey, Zuko? You in there?”

“I’ve got to go, Uncle,” Zuko spits out quickly, words tumbling off his tongue. He ends the call and stumbles off his bed, tripping over his own feet as he quickly crosses the room. He doesn’t mean to all but throw the door open, but he does, and Sokka jumps back, startled.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, swallowing around the crack in his voice. “What, um, what’s up?” He makes to lean against the doorframe, hoping his posture screams casual since his face and voice are currently betraying him.

Sokka drops his back against the wall opposite Zuko’s door, and he crosses his arms, eyes narrow, studious, and Zuko wants to shrink away from the scrutinizing gaze, wondering how come the wall he’s leaning against has yet to open up and swallow him whole.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just on the phone with my uncle,” Zuko sputters out, coughing absently into his shoulder.

“Iroh?”

Zuko doesn’t know how to take the sudden look of surprise that’s washed over Sokka’s face, yet, still, he nods as his answer, not at all surprised that many people are familiar with his family, with all sides of his family. “I stayed with him over the summer, and he dropped me off earlier today. He was checking in.” He’s not sure why he’s prattling on, but he can’t seem to stop.

“You didn’t go home for the summer?”

“I… I didn’t want to… after the tournament.” Zuko cast his eyes to the floor, his bangs masking his eyes. He wraps him arms around himself tightly, his fingers digging into his arms, and for just a moment, he’s pulled back to May, to the end of the tournament, back at his dorm where his father was shouting at his uncle, something about how much of a disappointment he was and how he could have had it all had he not thrown the tournament.

“Earth to Zuko.”

He pulls a quick gaze up to see Sokka looking at him with the faintest hint of concern. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie.” Sokka starts down the hall, and Zuko stumbles after him, pausing at the opening of the living room to see that Sokka’s taken the bare-bones room and turned it into, what feels like, a real living room, with pillows on each end of the couch, an impressive movie collection displayed on a shelf beside the TV, various pictures and posters hung up on the walls, and fairy lights draping across the ceiling.

“You did all this?” Zuko asks quietly, and Sokka grins at him, a wide grin he’s only seen reserved for Katara and Aang, and he feels a warm heat coating his cheeks.

“Unpacked, decorated, and ordered pizza.” Sokka motions to the pizza box on the coffee table. “Felt good to stretch after a long flight.” He starts toward the movies, plucking a few off the shelf. “Are you thinking classic or modern?”

“Sokka.”

“Yeah?” Sokka doesn’t look at him, and Zuko sighs quietly, arms hugging himself once more.

“Should we talk about—”

“—about how you terrorized me, my sister, and my best friend for an entire year and about how you almost killed my best friend at the Bender Tournament? Probably.”

Wincing, Zuko backs into a wall, a small shudder running through him. He watches as Sokka makes a choice and moves to some gaming console he doesn’t recognize.

“But, I don’t think we need to unpack all of that right now.” Sokka slips the disc into his PS4 and finally turns toward Zuko, frowning at Zuko’s hunched in posture, looking as if Zuko’s intentionally trying to fold into the wall at his back.

“Look, we’re both tired, and while this is definitely a conversation we need to have, I don’t think we need to have it tonight.”

Again, Zuko can’t quite pinpoint the look on Sokka’s face, and if he wasn’t so conflicted, he’d be a little annoyed that he can’t get a read on Sokka’s mood or intentions. He watches as Sokka sags against the couch with a loud sigh, briefly leaning forward to snag a slice of pizza.

“Are you going to watch the movie from back there? Because that’s a little creepy, dude.”

Zuko shuffles over to the couch, his heart and mind warring without his permission. He slides down onto the couch, a loveseat, and his knee brushes against Sokka’s. His cheeks grow warm once more when he mutters an apology, and when he catches Sokka’s eye, Sokka smiles at him, soft, warm, and a little hesitant. He mirrors the smile with flushed cheeks and calm eyes. Feeling relaxed for the first time in hours, he snags a slice of pizza and leans back against the couch as Sokka starts the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind response on the first chapter! Ya'll are some really cool cats, and I'm glad ya'll are enjoying this random idea I've had.
> 
> (And, yes, the snippet title is taken from such an incredibly classic Vine.) 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, and if you have any chapter ideas, feel free to shoot them my way! I have no idea, at the moment, how long this will be. It's just a sporadic project I could not get out of my head while binge-watching Avatar. This is definitely going to be an out of order fic, lol. 
> 
> (Come say hi on tumblr! @toosicktoocare)


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATLA Benders College AU
> 
> Snippet 3: My First Kiss Went A Little Like This
> 
> Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko

“So, weird question.” Though he opens the idea, efficiently breaking the comfortable silence between the two, Sokka still feels an unsettling onset of nerves overcome him, and he keeps his eyes focused on the sleeves of his hoodie as if the loose fabric is far more interesting than the movie playing on the TV. He tugs the fabric over his fingers, a nervous habit he’s watched Zuko do one too many times.

“Hmm?” Zuko’s almost absent in the present, too lost within the plot of the movie, an odd romance set in a dynasty era between a fire bender and a water bender that’s far too similar to Romeo and Juliet. At least, that’s how Sokka perceives it.

“If, hypothetically speaking, I were to take FB 101 next semester as one of my elective hours, and, still hypothetically speaking, I wanted to get a jumpstart on the course, would you, hypothetically, teach me fire bending?” Sokka’s mouth is dry, his words spilling clumsily from his tongue, and he’s slow to pry his eyes up from his sleeves when he hears the soft whir of the TV turning off.

Zuko’s not mad like Sokka had been expecting, and he hasn’t taken to a withdrawn stance at the question. His eyes are more… curious, Sokka thinks, taking in the slight tilt of Zuko’s head and the hint of a furrow in his brows.

“There were a lot of hypotheticals in that question,” Zuko starts, a small frown teasing at the corners of his lips, “but, if I heard correctly, you want me to teach you fire bending?”

“Hypothetically, yes,” Sokka says, masking a wince at his own words.

“Sokka, you do know that you can’t learn fire bending, right? You have to be a—”

“—born bender, or the Avatar, yeah,” Sokka finishes with a nervous laugh, one hand finding the back of his neck. “Totally, yeah. It’s just…” He struggles with his words, something he’s not entirely used to, a foreign feeling coating his mind. “I just… I just think it would be cool to see you bend.”

“You’ve seen me bend plenty of times,” Zuko presses, voice wavering slightly against the unspoken weight of his words, under the wordless knowledge that thousands have seen him bend with such hatred, such aggravation, to the point he almost killed Aang.

“I know, but I was kind of thinking you could just kind of walk me through a few things. One-on-one. No pressure from a large audience. Just you, me, and some fireballs.” He nudges Zuko’s thigh with his foot, offering a smile that he hopes shows the trust he’s built up toward Zuko over the last few months, and Zuko slaps Sokka’s foot away, yet he keeps golden eyes trained to steady blue ones for an endless moment, searching for a falter in Sokka’s suggestion.

“You’re serious about this.” A statement, but Sokka nods anyway.

“You aren’t,” Zuko pauses, dragging his knees up to his chest, “afraid?” His voice is a cracking whisper, and he clears his throat and rakes one hand through his hair, back arching into a curve as he drops his cheek to his knee, eyes never leaving Sokka’s face.

“Zuko, how many times do we have to go over this?” Sokka starts with a sigh. “You aren’t the person you were last semester.”

“I am, actually,” Zuko mutters, and Sokka turns until he’s fully facing Zuko on the couch.

“No, you aren’t. Last semester was Prince Zuko cracking under the fear and pressure of his father. Present time November is Zuko, an awkward, nerdy, shy, loser—”

“—Okay, thank you. I get it.” Zuko cracks a smile, and Sokka tilts his head far to the side to meet Zuko’s eyes from the same angle, his hair falling loosely over his shoulder. 

“So, is that a yes?”

“I guess so.”

***

Sokka’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, regretting his relatively thin jacket choice. He rubs his hands together quickly, blowing into them to bring some warmth back. He watches as Zuko shivers before the clear, frozen lake he brought them to as he sheds his thick coat.

“Zuko,” Sokka calls out, voice trembling slightly, “we can wait if you need to. I know, now, that fire benders and cold don’t mix.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko says. “It will still be cold when your FB 101 course starts, so we might as well do it now.” He steps away from his coat, the cold chill of the wind pushing hard against him, but he shakes his arms and his legs, loosening his tense muscles. He plants his feet firmly on the ground beneath him, steady, quiet.

“You can stand here, but not any closer. I don’t want to hurt you.” He motions Sokka forward, holding his hand out to stop him when he’s sure Sokka’s a safe distance away. “Are you ready?” He meets Sokka’s eyes, and he chases the bright, bursting trust that emits from such a strong gaze.

“You bet I am!”

Nodding, Zuko pulls his gaze up toward the cloudy sky and sucks in a deep, cold breath, his eyes slipping closed. “First, I pull all my focus toward the heat within my core.” As naturally as breathing, he zeroes in on the heat swelling within his center being and starts pushing it outward toward his limbs. “Then, I just kind of push it around my entire body.” Heat begins to cover every inch of him, and he lifts his hands, palms outstretched forward. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I let the heat build until I know it’s ready to manifest into fire. It kind of toes the line of too hot—that’s when I know I’m ready.”

He focuses the growing heat to his hands, mind clearing, and then he opens his eyes just as a steady flame bursts from his palm out across the frozen lake, raining embers over thick ice. He moves unconsciously after that, slinging fire as easy as it is to throw a ball, getting lost within the hot, fluid movements, only edging off when the heat begins to take to a more aggressive, almost suffocating, feeling that bites at his chest.

He’s hot all over. Sweat beads at his temples, and he finds that he’s slightly breathless, a combination of not bending fully for a couple of months and the strain of bending during winter. His chest is rising and falling a little too fast against the waning adrenaline, and he brings a bright gaze to see Sokka watching him so intently, it brings a different kind of flush to his cheeks.

“Did you take notes?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this,” Sokka whispers, dazed, and Zuko smiles sheepishly and turns to Sokka, stopping just before him.

“If you don’t close your mouth, you’ll start drooling.”

Sokka snaps his jaw shut, his cheeks growing a deep red from embarrassment and from that other damn feeling he cannot shake no matter how hard he tries. He watches Zuko laugh before him, a warm sound that echoes around them, and he wants to chase the sound, breathe it in, etch it into his memory.

He realizes, just as the first snowflakes fall around them, that he feels so, blessedly warm, and his heart is starting to pick up in speed. He could be wrong, but the pure, fond look in Zuko’s eyes, the similar, pink blush to his pale cheeks…

Running on instinct alone, he pushes forward and presses his lips firmly to Zuko’s, drinking in the steady, warm, soft heat of Zuko’s lips that are so close to molding so naturally to his. But, after a few seconds of muted encouragement, Zuko remains so stiff and unsure against him, and his heart plummets deep within his chest.

He staggers back, eyes flying open, and Zuko’s expression is frustratingly unreadable as he raises a shaking hand to cover his mouth.

“Shit, sorry,” Sokka starts, voice quick and sputtering, “I misread. I’m so sorry. I just thought—” He stumbles backward, arms wrapping around himself, feeling suddenly all too cold. “I’ll go back first.”

Zuko can’t find his voice, can’t find a steady tone to call out to Sokka. He’s shaking, but not from the cold, and behind his hand, his lips curve into a soft, eager smile that further warms the flush in his cheeks.

It’s not until Sokka’s just disappearing from sight that he finds his voice, a weak, stunned whisper. “You didn’t misread.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how bender stuff works, so if you're reading this and thinking "wtf," well so am I, lol
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, and you guys are all really cool!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for letting me roll with this. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, and if you have any chapter ideas, feel free to shoot them my way! I have no idea, at the moment, how long this will be. It's just a sporadic project I could not get out of my head while binge-watching Avatar. This will most likely be an out of order fic. 
> 
> (Come say hi on tumblr! @toosicktoocare)


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